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My abuse started when I was 4 years old. By a grandfather figure of mine. He was a family friend that my parents trusted and he slowly worked his way into our lives any way he could. He lived with several members of my family, include my for a while. He helped us financially. Came to all our birthday parties. There's a weird line of love and hate when I think about him. It's mostly hate, but I remember watching him in court on his conviction day and smiling a little. Not because he was being sent to prison for what he did to me, but because it felt natural too. He continuously sexually abused me, my sister, and several of my cousins for years. There was this constant aura of fear and numbness in our family. None of the adults knew, but all of us kids did. It was unspoken but we knew what was going on. If it was physical abuse, it was verbal or emotional. In the car, in the house, out in public. I don't remember most of my childhood because I was constantly disassociating. It's hard getting older and realizing how much of who I am in either because of the abuse or in spite of it. It was just so constant in my life that there's no way to separate him from everything else. There is no before and after the abuse. It just was. The abuse was my childhood even though my parents thought they were doing everything right. It's a shit show to deal with, but I guess that's why it's called Complex PTSD.

I don’t know where to begin but all these triggers come up so many And each one seems to lean back to the very first time that I can remember where my autonomy was taken from me I was 11. I can even remember what I was wearing. There was a man in his late 20s. He passed away last summer and I was glad that he wasn’t here anymore. I’m 47 now and it’s still bothers me just as much as it did back then and maybe it’s because I didn’t have support. I was in the backseat of the car and my two sisters were on either side of me. They were younger I’m the oldest my mom wasn’t in the car yet and the man he was drunk. He had a beer in his hand and he reached, he turned around and he he put his hand inside of me and I can remember it felt so heavy I couldn’t get it out. I had on white shorts a few minutes later my mom got in the car. I remember her sunglasses they’re so big. I always thought they were ugly to wear them all the time I called out Mama and she said what she didn’t even turn around to look and I think I said tell him to stop and she started to laugh and she looked at him and he looked at her and she said I hope you never get a boyfriend and they smiled at each other and he took his hand out. Although I was married for 30 years, which my mom introduced me to him when I was 14, I don’t believe I’ve ever been in a relationship not one where it was my choice. I’m 47 and I haven’t been in a Relationship. I suppose now it’s like nothing was ever my choice right so it’s almost like there’s a clean slate. And All these triggers like they go back to this one incident there’s so many other memories and so many other things that have happened to me honestly, there’s things that have happened to me that are worse but it’s like this one and I think it’s because I was only 11 and my mom was right there and shouldn’t help me And I became this person that would just figure it all out herself, but the thing is I can’t and I need help and I don’t even know how to accept it let alone get it and I’ve been going to therapy for over a year and this memory is just as active right now that as it was When I started going to therapy and it’s because I haven’t actually talked about it in therapy. The first therapist I had was an experienced and so I had to find a new therapist and although I’ve been to EMDR and we processed it all the way through where it felt like it wasn’t as intense and it still is, but it’s more than just what happened. There’s defined me. It literally made me who I became I got married when I was 17 and I didn’t wanna get married. My dad made me and I didn’t think I had a choice and I don’t even know why I got married Other than that. My whole life has been a series of what everybody else wanted or whatever everybody else was doing or needed or was pushing or forcing me to do not my choice And when I finally able to make my own choices, it’s like nothing is coming together in the way that I want it to because I’m afraid I’m so afraid that I’ll get hurt. This may be the first time that I have talked about this because I chose to.

Initials I’ll never understand why you did what you did and it truly worries me because how would you even know how to act at that young of an age. Initials the first time it happened doesn’t leave my mind playing over and over again. When I lived in City playing house on the second floor in the walk in closet the play kitchen was in and you asked if I wanted to have a baby. Little baby obsessed me was like ofc and you go “a real baby” again I say yes because I’m not sure what that entails at the time. You began to kiss me pushing me to the floor where you began to do other things to my body that honestly really confused me at the time. But all I knew was I really wanted a baby and these weird things you did honestly felt good which looking back I hate admitting. The second time was that same night. I was wearing one of those silk Disney princess nightgowns with the tule little sleeves this one was Ariel my favorite princess at the time. I remember you peeling it from my body and demanding I lay on top of you again “making a baby” we began what I had just experienced earlier in the closet but more aggressive and that’s when I got told I couldn’t tell anyone and it had to be “our thing”. I didn’t think much of this and put it on the same level as when you’d sneak us cookie cake from the kitchen and would tell me the same thing. Then the rest is all scattered with no time line. Although I have many more memories I know there are so many more I have forgotten. But for a while this went on playing family became the regular and for the longest time I just went along with it. You would show me videos and pictures of what we were supposed to do. We used our baby dolls to demonstrate and make sure they could have babies too. Idek how we got to this but the fake dance completions we would create dances and practice for were so sexual to a point I should never have even known. The craziest part of this all is I feel as everyone around should have known. The multiple times we had gotten caught with our baby dolls or acting suspicious. The countless times at night when we were playing family with both your sisters IN the room. The countless times your youngest sister at the time would literally tattle on us and share exactly how we “played house” and you’d deny and deny and deny and they’d always believe you. Why did no one notice? Even our bike rides we stop in a field with our blanket and play family there. And the worst part of all of this was the way I enjoyed it that’s the most confusing part as a child whatever feels good we begin to crave especially when we don’t realize it’s wrong. You ruined me. Absolutely ruined me. My innocent self was now texting random old men wanting to “play family” with them. You had me making myself feel good in front of so many strangers just for the gross satisfaction of it. I regret all of it so much and I hate that it’s a part of me. It feels like this disgusting layer that I can’t shed and I’m constantly trying to hide from. You hurt me more than anyone ever could, and we have to act like everything never happened because what would people think of me. It was just as much my fault as it was yours. Although everyone says that’s untrue it’s what it feels like. This monster inside of me constantly gnawing away at every good part I have left. You’ve turned me into someone I don’t even recognize. You killed the innocent girl within me. Honestly I feel that’s why I’ll always be a child at heart because it feels nice to experience something that was taken from me so early. I will never understand why you did it.

I don't know what to call it, so I just act like it was no big deal. For whatever reason, I didn't really recognize what happened or remember it until a couple months back. I was on the school bus with a guy I liked, and we had talked about dating once he was allowed to. I had almost fallen asleep leaning against him and was just drifting in and out when I realized he had his hands on my thighs, which I kinda felt panicked about but figured I was overreacting. He then slid my shorts much further up my leg and kind of just felt up my thighs (under and outside) and felt me up I think (I don't know if that's the right term). I remember being so absolutely terrified of what was happening and I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to embarrass him or make a fool of myself, so I never brought it up. We ended up dating for almost 6 months about 4 months after this happened. We broke up when I recognized what it was but I never mentioned it to him, I don't even know if he remembers. I feel awful knowing I dated him after but keep thinking it was no big deal.

I was on a first date with a guy and I agreed to meet at his apartment to then find somewhere to eat. We ended up watching a movie where he began touch my boobs and my legs. When I moved his arm away he would pout and tell me how he wanted a relationship with me but his love language was physical touch and I needed to let him touch me. He also began telling me that my anxiety was making him anxious. He then told me he wanted to cuddle in his bed. When I reminded him I didn't want to have sex yet he got very upset yelled at me and stormed off while pouting. He eventually called me into his room and began to get on top of me and was pushing my shirt and bra up then asked me to take my bottoms and underwear off. I did because I felt stuck and then without warning he stuck it in me. I felt out of my body at this point and just froze. I don't know if this is considered coercion or not but I do know I feel a lot of shame and guilt as well as a lot of blame on myself. I know I should have done things differently like not even going to his place. I feel stupid and used and like I hate myself more.

It was a long time ago, over 20 years ago. This is my first-step towards healing. Over the years I told my mom and my husband about what happened, but given that I was the "fun" one in those days, some will say I brought it upon myself. Did I? I remember the school trip abroad. He looked at my with a twinkle in his eye on the departure flight- my heart sank. We would spend time together, a lot of time, as he just broke-up with his girlfriend. I remember the night so clearly; we were abroad dancing the night away in a club and then the energy changed- it was electric. We held hands running through the city squares to his room. I had never felt so happy before. We were alone, making out. I remember the light in the bathroom was an odd color green and then he was in me. NO! I never said Yes. I never said Yes. I never, ever said Yes. The next day the classmates knew what he did. There were nods of disapproval. Despite my extreme and vocal curiosity, I never said Yes and I couldn't say No. He took it from me. The next day there were signs and later on an infection. Yuck. My mom told me I would die from AIDS and this wore on my mental health for months. He is a laywer now, married with kids. I went through a memory box recently and he said he "Was not "that" guy" in a note exchange, but he was worse. He stripped my heart, my soul and my mental health. I was SO alone. I will never forget it, and I will make sure my daughters are self-aware of their worth and the rights to their body. I will be there for them and not ignore it.

I was thirteen. He was my boyfriend. I never thought of it as a form of sexual assault because most of it was online, I blamed myself because I felt as though in the end I was the person in control and no one else could have been blamed. He would force me to touch myself, I was thirteen; I was not ready. It was ongoing for two years. It continuously got worse. I never understood how to deal with it. He had convinced me that he was the only person who cared about me, no one else would want me or even love me. It was a traumatic experience.

Hi I can't possibly share all the details in small box. So I made my own page as part of my healing process. So far I have had women saying that I've inspired them to write and share their own stories so I am very encouraged. I hope to help someone in all of this... Blog

We'd been talking online for a few months, and he'd gotten a hotel nearby. I went to see him, I was so excited. I knew we'd have sex, that was fine with me, I looked forward to it. But before we ever got to his room, he groped me. I asked him to stop, it was embarrassing. He hemmed and hawed. And I went with him anyways. He was eight inches taller than me, and a hundred or more pounds heavier. It started out fine, but suddenly, with no warning, his hand was wrapped around my throat. I panicked, and froze. It took him a few seconds to acknowledge that I'd reacted, and he asked what was wrong. All I could do was choke out that I didn't want choking. He pulled his hand away like he didn't make me think I was going to die just then, and continued. It's a blur after that, but I know that wasn't the last time I said no or to stop. Sometimes I didn't say no or stop, just that it hurt. He ignored all of them. I don't understand why I didn't just leave. I could have left. I wish I did. Instead, I somehow fell asleep next to him. I woke us both up screaming. He deserved it. I had a friend fake a medical emergency the next day, and pick me up. I left the hotel with shaking hands and hickeys id begged him not to leave. I wish I'd had a rape kit done. I wish I'd clawed out his eyes. I wish I'd told his entire family and everyone he cares about. I spent so long justifying what happened, that he must not have meant it somehow, that he was a good person who did a bad thing. I messaged him the next day, and explained what he'd done wrong. He took it so well. He apologized. I wish he'd been angry and evil and rude. I wish it was easier to blame him instead of myself. It's been five years (with weekly therapy!) and I still think it's partly my fault. Sometimes it feels like a distant dream, but right now, it feels so heavy that it's drowning me

The shame I hold is like a dull ache. I have been in therapy for the last year and finally shared the one deep and dark secret I have held. I sexual abused my brother for years... I was groomed in my home for 7 years by a female cousin who is about 9 years older than me. I had been sexually curious from a too early age and I never knew why. Now that I have faced that I was a victim who perpetuated the abuse done to them, you would think I would feel better right? Wrong... I still hold a shame that is too deep for me to even fully engage with. The things that I did to my brother were violating, I have a hard time balancing my identity as a human being and not thinking of myself as this predator, monster, disgusting. My therapist said to me that I am viewing the things I did through an adult lens of morality but to remember I was a child... but... other victims of CSA do not go on to be perpetrators. Why me?

Growing up i was playing toys with my nephew 3 and little sister 6 and cousins 9-10 me 9 we all thought touching each other’s privates was okay and it was normalized we all did it i was playing house as a kid so were they me and my older cousin was molested by my brother and forced to do things we thought it was normal so we continued it for years i said something 5th grade and he said i was lying so year went by and me and my nephew and little sister i was 11 he was 6 My little sister was 8 I thought it was normal i had no experience in sex life or anything like that besides a guy trying to make me do stuff to him we were the same age. When i was 13 covid happened school was shut down and never learned about sex ed or anything like that also there was a 23 year old touching me and wrapping his body around me growing i never got the guidance or anything as a pre teen and so didnt any of my siblings or nephew so for a while i thouGht everything about the was normal so when i was 14-15 i was engaging with the inappropriate activities bc i thought it was normal and when i was in elementary my nephew had performed “oral” on me and I wasn’t a fan and I didn’t do it bc i didn’t want to and I didn’t even want him to lick my area he asked and that’s something that grossed me out now thinking of this but me and my little sister did a lot growing up like i gave her oral she never did for me i was a pre teen at the time and we was all exposed to porn growing up on tv and tablets so like wasnt great at home but we never had sex growing up despite are body parts wasn’t developed enough to even do that so we would hump eachother with and without clothes and now when i was 15 starting high school i stop contributing in the nasty stuff we were doing and I remember since we were all exposed to porn we used to use stuff like we are stuck or wrestling just nasty now i feel horrible like I committed a crime I stopped it i became very depressed and hyper sexual and alot of time people would say at 14-15 you know better and I genuinely am grossed out with myself because why didn’t i and now its been 5 years and i hate stuff like that and i get emotional asf now because i feel like I failed every kid who was in the house tht was involved including me i feel like it my fault and I deserve to die and i dont wanna kms bc I don’t want them to think thats the only way they can move on from it and you know i never did that stuff to hurt anyone i just did it i thought it was normal i got over it when i was 15 like i try not to think about it and not blame myself but it genuinely hard bc i was older I should’ve knew better and i talked to my siblings and nephew and they told me that we all thought it was normal and its not my fault and I shouldnt be so hard on myself bc parents should’ve said something and we all hugged each other and we all are close And I’m just scared I traumatized them because what happened or im and abuser or criminal I genuinely love them never meant any type of harm.

last night. i made the dumbest fucking decision ever to sneak out and go on a walk at 1am. I live in a safe area, I thought I would be ok. This is genuinely all my fault. I went to the gas station to buy a Cola, and then went to the bathroom. I'm so mad at myself, I usually go into the disabled single stall because I know this shit kind of happens often, and I'm also on the thinner size for guys. But I didn't this time. His breath smelt of weed, his voice terrifyingly deep. Almost robotic. "If you tell anyone Ill fucking kill you" My youth taken, I feel so incredibly dirty. Every part of me aches. I can't get his smell off of my breath. I can't get it off my mind. I can't help but think that if I just stayed home none of this would've happened. Why does bad stuff keep happening to me?

Sexually assaulted at 17 Name and in 24 years old a bad fake family member came in life around 24 to 25 years old, he exploited my messages on phone and gave it to family health centers his name is Name but he was not allowed to come here legally anyway. I want justice and peace.

At age seven, I told my mother I was being sexually abused by my paternal grandfather. In the middle of a contentious divorce, my mom believed me, but I was forced to tell the story over and over again to police officers, counselors, and attorneys. My dad, an up-and-coming attorney, who worked in the same county where my grandfather resided assisted him with his defense in court. I testified in court for an hour and a half and had to be in the same room with my grandfather. The verdict: not guilty. Life after the trial was a tangle of coping mechanisms. My relationship with my dad fractured, and I lost contact with every member of my paternal family, not knowing that only 1.5 to 3 percent of all child sexual abuse cases end in a guilty verdict. All I knew was that my dad did not protect me. After high school, I moved across the country to attend college in the state my college was in, where I found myself first through drinking and smoking, and then an eating disorder. I developed relationships with both men and women, often in overlapping time frames, rarely fully honest with my partners. As my unhealthy coping mechanisms sent me into a spiral, I began recovery multiple times—until, finally, I started to regain control of my life and the autonomy that was taken from me so long ago. Today, I'm a business owner, at work on a memoir about my experience testifying with a real estate side hustle. I am more than my abuse.

So I was sexually assaulted last night and I feel nothing today. Nothing at all. I was grateful when the guy let me go this morning. He didn't care that I was crying, or how I was feeling or that he was causing me a lot of physical pain. There was no way to get away. He was a foot taller than me and so much stronger and he had his hand around my throat. I was afraid he would snap my neck or choke me out because of how his hand was gripping my neck and how much of my neck his hand covered. He told me he was glad I was very small, and how size matters when it comes to strength. I felt like a mouse in the jaws of a lion. I struggled to breathe. I was afraid I was going to die. He was upset with me last night because I started bleed a lot while he was assaulting me. He was fucking mad at me for bleeding on him. He was mad at me this morning because I was trying to sneak away when he fell asleep. He started assaulting me all over again and for some reason decided to stop and let me go. Maybe because he was tired. As soon as I got away I was walking and walking and called an Uber to take me home. I felt so numb. All I knew was I had to get home. I had to go celebrate my friend’s birthday with her this morning and smile and pretend I was ok. Then I had to go to work. I'm home now, and I just feel so numb and like I don't care about anything. I just don't care anymore. I don't care about me. I don't matter at all. That's how I feel. I just feel like I'm nothing. And I don't want to see my friends or anyone. I just want to lay in my bed forever and sleep. I have to go to work tomorrow. I have to keep going about my life like everything is ok. I have to be normal and not fall apart. I haven't told anyone apart from here right now. I won't tell anyone. No point. People will be like it's your fault. So I'm just going to pretend I'm fine. I'm not fine. I hate myself so much for having put myself in the situation where that could happen. It was a date. I should know better than to trust any man or ever try to find love. It doesn't exist. I am not a person, I'm just an object. I'm going to ask doctor tomorrow (they aren't open today) for meds to prevent pregnancy and treat any possible stds. I won't tell him what happened because I don't want to talk about it with anyone I know personally. I just want to forget about it.

This guy was my best friend. He knew everything I was dealing with. He was the reason I got out of the abusive place I was in. Less than 2 weeks after I got out of that abusive place, he raped me when I needed a safe place to stay. I had trusted him so much with absolutely everything and he not only violated me, but my trust aswell. He then text me the day after telling me not to tell anyone what happened. But I didn't remember anything about what happened until 5 days after it happened. He denied and denied and denied when I confronted him until eventually he admitted to what he did. Its been numberyears and I still can't walk around my hometown alone anymore out of fear, I can't hear his name or see anything remotely near to what he was wearing or I was wearing. But I'm in therapy now and it's making me realise so much. I'm working on trusting the world again. I didn't deserve it. No one does. As difficult and painful it is to deal with something like this, we can all survive. We can get through it. Someone wants to listen to your story. Someone wants to help. Don't deal with it alone xx

It has been over a year since I stopped reading emails and letters and opening packages of self help books. I have not seen my mother in four years and I will never visit again to be dismissed, invalidated and used as a prop on her stage. In order to support her narrative of how wrong, how disordered, how crazy I must be, my mother has been able to ignore her own heinous immorality towards her own daughter, and appears to believe she is the victim because I have cut her out of my life forever. She had no outrage when I told her a friend of the family had molested me. I told her when I was 27, and repeated it when I was 40, when it was clear she had done nothing to break her alliance. She continued her loyal friendship with this sexual predator for over two more decades, knowing he preyed upon not just me but many other children in our community. With great dismay and sadness, I have finally realized she is incapable of caring, and she is a monster. I raised my kids to be suspicious of inappropriate adults, and to stand up for themselves. I wish I'd had that courage but I'm proud I could break the cycle. I spent most of my life trying to be helpful, loyal and understanding to a mother who didn't know how to be a mother. I'm done now. Mother's Day is a day of mourning; I am still amazed and baffled that people have loving, protective, loyal mothers they cherish. I am fortunate however, to have many others who care about me and thus fortified, began the journey towards truth, wholeness and self-worth. Thanks to your website and many others, I have been validated and gained understanding and courage. Still plodding ahead, and gaining insight and strength.

I honestly thought I was over this after all the years but somehow today on a day when I was already feeling low I saw one of my abusers and realized I've not really moved past the trauma. I feel trapped because they are family and coming forward with my truth would really hurt people who I mean no harm to. Especially his sister who adores him. I also hate that the story would also bring aspects of me that I don't think my family will understand given that victim blaming is very present in my family. This man is one year older than me but has been violent with me since we were kids. My earliest memories of him are him being verbally abusive then physically violent. He walked in on me getting dressed few times when I was in my early teens and only now that I'm older I realized those were not accidents. The sexual harassment and assault started in my late teens into early adulthood. I feel like he groomed me to fear him I always felt like fighting him off or saying no would get me physically hurt. I hate myself for having to pretend to enjoy the abuse and how it warped my idea of who I am and what I deserve. In in my late twenties and I know if I was in a room alone with him I'd definitely agree to stuff I don't want cause I'm still afraid of him and he takes me back to that terrified preteen. While I've experienced abuse from so many men this one hurts more cause I have to experience him through family and can't speak out so I'm doomed to feel trapped and unseen. I hate how small he makes me feel, how he makes me feel dirty and broken and trapped.